Do not weep, maiden, for war is kind,
Because your lover threw wild hands toward the sky
And the affrighted steed ran on alone,
Do not weep.
War is kind.
Hoarse, booming drums of the regiment,
Little souls who thirst for fight,
These men were born to drill and die.
The unexplained glory flies above them.
Great is the battle-god, great, and his kingdom—
A field where a thousand corpses lie.
— Stephen Crane, from War is Kind
REFRAIN:
Skimming lightly, wheeling still,
The swallows fly low
Over the field in clouded days,
The forest-field of Shiloh---
— Herman Melville, from Shiloh. A Requiem
Do not weep, babe, for war is kind.
Because your father tumbles in the yellow trenches,
Raged at his breast, gulped and died,
Do not weep.
War is kind.
Swift blazing flag of the regiment,
Eagle with crest of red and gold,
These men were born to drill and die.
Point for them the virtue of slaughter,
Make plain to them the excellence of killing
And a field where a thousand corpses lie.
Mother whose heart hung humble as a button
On the bright splendid shroud of your son,
Do not weep.
War is kind!
REFRAIN:
Skimming lightly, wheeling still,
The swallows fly low
Over the field in clouded days,
The forest-field of Shiloh—
Over the field where April rain
Solaced the parched ones stretched in pain
While over them the swallows skim,
And all is hushed at Shiloh.
Through the pause of night
That followed the Sunday fight
Around the church of Shiloh—
The church so lone…
That echoed to many a parting groan
And natural prayer
Of dying foemen mingled there—
Foemen at morn, but friends at eve—
CHORALE/HYMN:
There will come soft rains and the smell of the ground,
And [the] swallows circling with their shimmering sound;
And not one will know of the war, not one
Will care at last when it is done.
Not one would mind, [not] bird nor tree
If mankind perished utterly;
And Spring herself, when she woke at dawn,
Would scarcely know that we were gone.
There will come soft rains and the smell of the ground,
And [the] swallows circling with their shimmering sound;
— adapted from Sara Teasdale: There Will Come Soft Rains (War Time)
REFRAIN:
